The sun rises and sets

I am settling into the rhythm of life here; things feel ordinary, normal. What you would expect anywhere in the world - older siblings are annoyed by their younger siblings and do things to make them cry, kids are curious and have to touch everything, families watch TV together in the evenings, coworkers don't always see eye to eye but have to manage to find a way to work things out, old friends are joyful when they're reunited and sad when it's time to part ways. The sun rises and sets.

The neighbor kids have been coming over more, especially the 5 year old since he's too young for school so he's always home. I usually keep the door open when I'm home to let the sunlight and fresh air in but it's interpreted as a 'welcome, come on in!' sign. As I'm preparing my breakfast my heart sinks a little when I see him slinking in the door as he slips off his shoes, I was planning to start my morning quietly and peacefully before interacting with the world. But he flashes his big smile and says, "Angelo! something, something, something" (I still don't know 95% of what he says) and how quickly my feelings change from disappointment to happiness that he's come to join me. He still has to grow into his ears which adds to the cuteness factor. Sometimes he wants to sweep my floor (my little hand held broom and dustpan is pretty cool), can't argue with that! When he's done he says, 'amma shararitti hin jiru' which means now there are no spiders. Oh if that were true! 

His older brother is about 12 years old and is super helpful and kind. On the weekends he's usually responsible for tending the animals, taking them out to pasture. One day he brought me back a handful of pea pods, what a nice surprise! It was only about four spoonfuls of cooked peas but, fresh peas, what a treat! 

The landlady is still overfeeding me and as hard as I tried to resist, she's now got me eating meat. One day she brought me a plate of raw lamb meat with a side of mitmita, a delicious spicy powder mixture for dipping meat into. As soon as I saw it I knew I was meant to eat it as is, like, raw. Yeah, raw. It's a special treat. I politely declined and thankfully she accepted. Well about 10 minutes later the landlord calls for me and tells me to come to their home. He's a really nice man but has a commanding presence, when he tells you to do something you do it. I knew I was about to be presented with another plate of raw meat. The other neighbors in our compound had been invited over as well to share in the feast. Even though they also wanted me to try it I was thankful they were there because they could help translate that I appreciated the generosity but I really couldn't eat it. I think the only thing that saved me was that I had just recovered from food poisoning a few days before so it was understood that my stomach might be weak. They decided that I would eat it cooked. The landlady was preparing tibs - chopped up pieces of lamb meat cooked with rosemary served on a plate of injera which you then dip in the mitmita and eat. I had no choice but to eat! It was delicious of course, I just prefer to eat vegetables. The meal was accompanied by Ethiopian-made ouzo. Luckily the landlady found the smallest shot glass for me and I was only given a splash which was plenty, it was very strong! Since then she has also brought over doro wat, a traditional chicken stew made with a spicy sauce and hard boiled eggs. It was only after I ate it that I realized the two hens and rooster were absent from the compound. Who did I eat? The especially vocal rooster? The curious black hen that almost wandered into my room? The brown hen that I almost scared the life out of when I unknowingly threw my dishwater into the plants where she was pecking around? We'll never know. 

The 'traffic' I deal with on my evening commute.

Love from Ethiopia!